


Descent

by dragonashes



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Critical Role Epilogue Spoilers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Major Character Undeath, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 09:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12504388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonashes/pseuds/dragonashes
Summary: One critical roll fails at a crucial moment, and everything changes.  An alternative end to the fight against Vecna.Spoilers through the epilogue of Vox Machina's story (Critical Role episode 115).





	Descent

**Author's Note:**

> I'm well aware that this isn't my normal fandom; regular programming will resume this weekend. Apologies.
> 
> For those not aware: Critical Role is a web series were "a bunch of nerdy-ass voice actors sit around and play Dungeons and Dragons." The adventuring party - Vox Machina - started as a group of friends playing at home, and Geek and Sundry asked to broadcast their weekly games. The result was 115 episodes of puns, battles, awkward relationships, and a whole lot of silly voices and memorable characters. It's not for the wee ones - there is quite a bit of language and adult situations throughout - but for people with patience it's well worth watching.
> 
> Come with me to an Exandria where one critical roll failed, and an event that was strongly hinted at during the episode changed everything.

The shadow of the titan’s giant fist loomed heavy over the remains of the Tower of Entropis.  Vax’ildan met Keyleth’s eyes over Scanlan’s head, middle fingers still straining.   _ Do it, _ he thought.   _ Do it or- _

The words coming from the planetar’s mouth made no sense to him, but he thought - and perhaps it was a foolish thought, but hope is a fickle thing - that they sounded correct.  At the very least they sounded like the ones Scanlan had just tried to read.  He could see the glow of the activated runes on her face, dancing off the curve of her telltale antlers.  Surely, surely it was succeeding?

The runic glow sputtered out.

Vecna laughed, a horrible high-pitched sound.  He raised the first higher, with no regard to the people attached to him, and let his hand fall.

The titan’s arm fell with it, and Vax’s world went black.

It was a familiar darkness.  He knew death too closely to be even alarmed by it anymore, especially after that incident with the strangulation.  His mouth curved upwards.   _ Looks like Artagan won’t be getting his gateway- _

“There you are, fate-touched.’

He heard the Raven Queen’s voice before he felt her presence, but only because her presence was that of death itself and permeated the place in which he found himself.  She had made herself tall again, nearly twice his height, and - as always - he felt small and weak in her presence.  For someone who had once been mortal, it was hard to imagine her as anything but a force of nature.

“What happened?” he asked, turning.

The white mask was arched down towards him, expressionless as ever, but the white hands were clasped in front of her.  It was a surprisingly maternal gesture.  “You and your friends failed, my champion.”

“We...no.  No, that’s not possible.”

“Wherever success is possible, failure is possible as well.  And you have failed, my champion.”

“Then-”

“Your friends passed through my realm at the same time you did.  I...am sorry.”

It was difficult to tell, but Vax thought he heard a hint of true remorse in her words.  He fought for control.  It was not her fault; she was merely a gatekeeper of the doors of death, not the arbiter of life.

“Then, they’re all-”

“Dead.”

“Then we did fail.  Vecna is still out there.  Please, you  _ have _ to send us back.  I’ll give anything-”

“I already have all I could ever ask from you, my champion.”  A large, cool hand reached out to cup his cheek.  “We already have a bargain.”

His mind raced.  “Then...you’ll send us back?”

“No.  Your friends are under the auspices of their patron deities, and their spirits will be dealt with in whatever manner they see fit.”

The memory of an endless sea of pearls under his feet, of an impossibly vast library, spun through his mind.

“As for those among your group who had no particular ties to the divine, Ioun has agreed to host them.  She has no great love for Vecna, and wished to honor those who died in the fight against him.  Where they go after they have rested in her domain is up to them.”

He wished he could sit.  He was fairly certain that he didn’t have a body with which to sit.  Actually, he was pretty certain that he was naked.  Again.

As if reading his mind, the Raven Queen chuckled and smoothed both hands over his shoulders.  “I will grant you a boon.  You have a long fight ahead of you.  Go; see your friends in Ioun’s realm and rest for a while.”

And the darkness dissolved around him.

After a moment, he was thrust into chaos.  It took him a moment to ascertain that he was in the Endless Athenaeum, at the edge of the bowl-like central chamber where he and his companions had met Ioun, the Knowing Mistress not too long ago.   _ That _ visit had been marked by relative peace: a frantic search, yes, but on the backdrop of a silent library manned by phantom servants.  The scene before him was the complete opposite.

People of all colors and races were clustered together in the bowl, filling the space and spilling out amongst the bookshelves.  Elves, humans, dragonborn, halflings, gnomes; everyone was clustered together, babbling in a dozen different languages.  As he stood at the edge of the bowl, he saw a few more people appear beside them; on their shoulders, he could see the brand of the Slayer’s Take.

Floating above them all, draped in scrolls and her long robes, was Ioun.  Sprigg was floating with her, clutching the trailing end of one of her sleeves with white knuckles.  He was muttering something that made his goddess smile and nod every once in a while.  They both looked completely overwhelmed.

It was the Knowing Mistress herself who spotted Vax first, gliding over to him.  “Ah, Vax’ildan!  I see you’ve arrived.  I’d tell you to make yourself at home, but…” her arms spread wide to encompass the mass of people that flooded her domain.  “When I offered my sanctuary as a place to house those souls looking for a place to rest after their battle with Vecna, I confess I did not expect so...many.  What is going on?  What has that monster done?”

“You still can’t see him then?  Uh, my lady?”  He wasn’t sure if calling another goddess “my lady” would offend the Raven Queen, but the title seemed appropriate.

“I’m afraid not; his power has only grown since his ascension, and he was shielded from my sight even as a mortal, as you know.  I can sense him as a deity, can feel his influence upon the world, but the only details I have come from those who have arrived here.

“It is far worse than I expected.  As you can see, there are far more...unaligned individuals in Vasselheim than one might presume.  That’s in addition to my devotees who lived in the city, and the Slayer’s Take, and...well, I shall just that I doubt my library will return to its usual silence anytime soon.”  There was a wry smile on her face that made her look far younger than the form she favored.  “I wanted company, but I must admit this is more than I had bargained for!”

“Please - have you seen any of Vox Machina?  Percy or Grog or Pike, or my sister?  Scanlan!  Scanlan was your champion; is he here?”

“Oh, Scanlan, yes.  He’s down...there, behind that rather large group of human women.  Pike Trickfoot and your sister were both the chosen of other deities; you will find Pike in the Blessed Fields of Elysium and Vex’alia in the Fortress of the Sun.  Grog is down that hallway there; all the books are...painful for him, and we found him a nice quiet spot to wait.  I will see if there is room in the halls of Kord the Stormlord for him; he spent enough times, er, ‘worshipping’ in the Braving Grounds, and I’m sure the old blowhard can be...persuaded to let a nice brave boy like him in.  Percival...oh, Percival.  He has taken his death hard.  His separation from your sister is terrible for him.”

It was terrible for Vax, too, but he couldn’t form the words.  He was a man of action; how could he put words to the missing half of his heart and soul?

“Keyleth...she is here, too.  She was looking for you.”

His heart jumped into his throat.  Somehow, the idea of his bright, lively Keyleth being  _ dead _ hadn’t occurred to him.  “I...please, where is she?”

Both Ioun and Sprigg pointed to one of the hallways behind him.  As the little gnome muttered in his funny, half-mad way, the goddess produced a tea tray from nowhere and floated it down to Vax’s open hands.  “Here you are, dear.  You two take some time to yourselves.  This has been an awful day for all of you.  Believe me, the rest of your companions are not going anywhere anytime soon.”

As if in a daze, Vax did as he was asked.  He half-stumbled down the dark hallway, eyes unseeing, and actually walked past the figure crumpled against the end of one of the bookshelves.

“...Vax?”

He whipped around, barely avoiding spilling the tea tray.  Carefully he knelt down, put it to the side, and collapsed into Keyleth’s arms.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she babbled, clutching at the feathers of his armor.  “I couldn’t  _ save _ us-”

“Kiki, stop.  You’ve saved us all so many times, in so many ways.  You were our  _ princess, _ our Voice of the Tempest.  You did everything you could.”

“But I failed!  I should’ve been able to read that book, that stupid,  _ stupid _ book.  I should’ve gotten us out of there.  I should’ve noticed that stupid hand…”

“Kiki…” he drew back, taking her by the shoulders.  “We were all in that fight together.  We knew what we were getting into.  No matter what we did, there was always the chance that we’d fail.  I guess...I guess it’s now up to someone else to take up the fight.”

She sniffed, wiping her eyes.  She was still wearing her armor and her antler headdress, and the Mantle of the Tempest still fluttered around her shoulders.  Come to think of it, Vax himself was wearing clothes now as well, as were all the people he’d seen in and around the central chamber of the Athenaeum.  Was it a difference between Ioun’s realm and the Raven Queen’s, he wondered, or a preference of the goddesses themselves?

“What’re you thinking about?”  Keyleth mumbled, looking self-conscious.

“Just that you still look every bit as beautiful as ever.”

She blushed.

“Here.  Ioun sent some tea; it would be rude not to accept her hospitality.”  The tea was greenish and smelled slightly fruity.  He took a tiny sip before handing it over.  Not bad.

“...You can pour yourself a cup too, y’know.”

He did, joining her cross-legged on the floor.

They sat in silence for a long while, sipping their tea and nibbling the biscuits.  Both were far too exhausted to question how such a thing was possible under the current circumstances.

Finally, Keyleth spoke.  “Do you think we’ll become books, Vax?”

“Hmm?”

“Books.  Y’know, how all Ioun’s followers become these books?”  She gestured at the countless bookshelves around them.  “Will we become books, too?”

“I dunno.  I guess I’ll become whatever happens to the Raven Queen’s followers.  A raven, I guess, would be the obvious choice, but I’m not sure.”

She hummed.  “That sounds like fun.  Maybe I can become a raven, too.”

“...You don’t get along with the Raven Queen.”

“Bitch, I can turn into anything I want!”

He laughed, ruffling her hair and wiping the remaining tear tracks from her face.

“So, where is everyone else?”

“Well, Pike is in Elysium with Sarenrae and my sister is in the Fortress of the Sun with Pelor.  Perks of being a champion, I guess.  Everyone else is here.”

“Then...how’d you get here?  You’re a champion too.”

“The Raven Queen sent me here.  I’m not sure why.”

Keyleth hummed again.

“Actually...do you mind if I head out for a bit?  I want to talk to Scanlan, Grog, and Percy, make sure they’re all okay.  Or do you want to come with?”

“I want to be alone for a while.  I’ll have another cup of tea here and wait for you.  Oh, can you grab me one of those big pillows?  I’m weirdly tired…”

He promised he would and walked away.

Finding Grog and Scanlan was easy.  Grog, despite being completely locked inside the stacks, was large enough that he could be easily seen, and Scanlan had actually stepped up and started organizing the recently dead.  Both were shocked to see Vax, but were pleased to learn the fates of their other companions.  He left them together, Scanlan on a very uncomfortable Grog’s shoulders, bellowing orders and directing the souls into groups to help them more easily find friends and family members in the chaos.

That just left Percy.  He wasn’t in the general mob, wasn’t anywhere in the shelves that Vax could see.  He was about to return to the central chamber to try to get further directions from Ioun when he spotted a shock of white hair.

Lord Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III was pacing back and forth between bookshelves.  His hand went automatically to his bandolier when he heard Vax’s approach, but his guns weren’t there.  Both men grimaced.

“So.  You’re here,” Percy said.  “I don’t suppose you know what’s going on.”

“We’re dead, Freddy.”

“Hah.  ‘Life needs things to live,’ I once said.  I guess we’re out of things.”  He laughed, and it sounded manic.  “I really am going mad, like Ioun said I was.”

“No, you aren’t.  Listen to me.”  He grabbed Percy by the upper arms, stopping the human in his tracks.  “You’re alright.  We’re all alright.  This is natural for us.  We were all going to die someday; most of us have already.  Now we deal with it.”

“Yes.  Well.  Ahem.  You know, I never thought that we’d all go together, but it sure beats going alone.”

“That’s...one way to put it.  I’d much rather you all were alive.”

“Oh, sure, but there’s a certain...charm to all being dead together, wouldn’t you agree?  And this is definitely much nicer than my  _ last _ experience being dead.”

“Percival, the last time you died your soul was claimed by a shadow demon because you made a stupid revenge bargain.”

“Indeed.  I must say, for all my skepticism regarding the gods, Ioun is a much better hostess than Orthax.”

There was an unpleasant twist to Percy’s mouth.  Cynicism was one thing both men had in common, but Vax couldn’t face it just then.  “Look...it isn’t good for you to be wandering alone out here.  C’mon; Kiki’s over across the way.  Come sit with us for a while.  We have tea.”

He was brushed off.

“I can’t sit right now; I’m  _ thinking. _  Vex is obviously with Pelor in the Fortress of the Sun.  Surely there’s a way to escape this plane, or to...side-step into another portion of the divine plane.  We know where the Fortress of the Sun  _ is; _ that’s not the hard part.  The hard part is putting together the magic to get there, especially since I assume there’s some kind of...of limitation on the abilities of the dead to prevent them from escaping.  And it’s not like we can build a bridge from here to there-”

“Freddy.  Percy.  Percival.  Calm down.  You’re not thinking straight.”

“I’m thinking  _ fine, _ Vax; don’t treat me like a child.”

“I’m...ugh.”  Percy could be  _ infuriating _ at times.  “Look.  I don’t know if it helps, but Ioun said that she was considering a...a sort of transfer for Grog.   _ I _ was sent here by the Raven Queen from her domain.  That means the gods can move people between realms.  Why not...ask?”

“Because asking means I can be refused.  I have nothing to bargain; why would Ioun do  _ me _ any favors?”

“You  _ did _ fight against Vecna-”

“And failed to kill him, thereby dooming the world-”

“Well, don’t ask if you’re so determined not to.  But it’s an option.”

He left Percy to his moping and made his way back to Keyleth, snagging a fluffy pillow on his way back as requested.  He smiled when he walked up; it looked like not even divine tea could keep his beautiful Kiki awake when she was so exhausted.  It seemed like weeks since they had rested in the Feywild, that strange day they’d bought from Artagan with promises.  Well, promises...and allowing Artagan to strangle Vax to death.

_ Yay pseudo-death. _

He carefully tipped Keyleth over so she was hugging the pillow, not entirely sure if she could get a crick in her neck after death, and settled himself beside her.  The floor of the Athenaeum was cold and hard, but far from the worst place he’d camped.

Sleep took him within moments.

He woke up to the sounds of birds chirping and the strange sensation of wind where wind usually was not.  He rolled over...and straight onto a loose twig.

He stood up.  He was naked again.  Goody.  Better find where-

Realization crashed into him with the force of a titan’s fist.  He had a bargain with the Raven Queen: immortality until he defeated Vecna.  He’d been sent back.  Again.

His companions had not.

He had never felt so alone.

Vax showed up at the gates of Vasselheim in the buff, but he was actually not the strangest thing to break into the city that day.  Whatever realm Vecna had retreated to for recovery appeared to allow him minimal control over the lesser undead, at least, though the titan appeared to be rooted in place.  He shuddered when he looked up.  One of the four huge fists was still on its back, barely visible through the still-swirling cloud of shrapnel and gloomstalkers.

He was  _ not _ looking forward to going back up there, but he  _ really  _ needed his gear.  And something better to wear than the cloak one of the city guards had hastily thrown at him.  At least the barrier that had surrounded Thar Amphala was gone, so getting in and out would be easier.

The fact that he would have to face the bodies of his friends - his adopted brothers, the love of his life, and  _ both _ his sisters - was something he was trying very hard not to think too much about.

For lack of better direction, he set off towards the Slayer’s Take guildhall.  They’d been compromised, but it was either them or the Temple of the Raven Queen; he didn’t doubt the loyalty or dedication of the Raven Queen’s maidens, but the didn’t seem like they’d be a lot of help in the kind of brawl he was looking for.

Two steps inside the guildhall, he was grabbed around the neck in a flash of gold.

“Well, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

He tried to speak.  “Kssssh.”

“Let him go, darling.”

Vax coughed as he was released.  “Hi, Kash,” he gasped to the man behind him.  “Hi, Zahra.  Thought you were dead.”

Zahra laughed, one hand on her belly.  “Oh, please.  It would take more than a little fall to kill the three of us!”

“We nearly died,” Kashaw interrupted, folding his arms with a metallic  _ clank. _  “The only reason we survived was because the wyverns hit the ground first.  We regained consciousness just as the titan decided to take a fist to its own back.”

“Thank the stars for fly spells,” the tiefling said reverently.  “And clerics, of course.  But what about you?  Where’s your sister?  Where are all your companions?”

Vax covered his face.

“Don’t tell me they’re dead…”

“They’re obviously dead, Z.  Guy can’t even-”  Kash was cut off by the wooden  _ thump _ of wood connecting with a human skull.  “Right.  Sorry.”  He turned to the rogue at his side.  “Don’t ever argue with a pregnant tiefling; it doesn’t end well.”

Despite himself, Vax laughed.  “So you’re...well.  Congratulations, then.  I’m glad there’s  _ some _ good news in all this.”

Zahra tisked.  “Don’t worry about us, darling.  Come, sit, and tell us what happened.  Kash, go grab a pair of pants.”

“I’m already-”

“Now, Kashaw.  The only privates I want to see tonight are yours.”

Kash stomped off with enough force to set his plate mail ringing, leaving Zahra and Vax at a table.

The tiefling took a deep breath.  “I can’t believe they’re all gone.  What happened?  How did you survive?”

Vax told his story as best he could.

“So you’re...immortal, then?”

“Yes.”

“Until Vecna is defeated.”

“Yes.”

“Well that’s handy, all terrible consequences aside.  I have to ask, though: do you want us to attempt a resurrection?  I assume their...bodies...are still up at the top of the tower.  You wanted to go up there, you said?”

“Yes.  I need my gear, and...and some of us had some very powerful artifacts that  _ cannot _ fall into the wrong hands.  Especially now that Vecna is ruler of the world.  Is he ruler of the world?”

Zahra gave him a very dry look.  “First of all, I know about the vestiges, and this is a private table.  Second, it would appear that Vecna maintains some portion of his lich abilities.  You still sense him, is that correct?”

“Yes.  I don’t sense  _ where _ he is, though, which usually happens when he’s on another plane of existence.  So…”

“So he’s on another plane of existence.  That’s...not very comforting.  How long does a lich take to return, do you know?”

Vax didn’t know.

The same question was posed to Kash when he returned, carrying a baggy pair of pants that Vax gratefully slipped into.  Unfortunately, Kash’s best estimate was somewhere between one and 10 days.

“Could be longer or shorter for a god; who knows,” he grumbled.  “I’m off to find beer.  Vax, want any?”

“No alcohol,” Zahra said, gripping her staff menacingly.  “I am pregnant.”

“And he’s a man who lost everything yesterday, and no man in that situation can drink alone.  C’mon, Z.”

“Fine,” she sighed.

They drank to the memory of their friends (Zahra with some very nice flavored water), then made their attempt to scale the titan.  All three of them - armed with flight spells - flew in behind a contingent of dragon riders.  They managed to land without too much of an incident, narrowly avoiding a group of gloomstalkers.

Thar Amphala was a ruin.  The impact of the titan’s fist hadn’t just crushed the tower, it had torn the city nearly to pieces.  Large cracks marred the streets, opening hidden tunnels in the titan’s back.

The fist, unfortunately, was still in place.  Not for the first time, Vax wished Keyleth was with him; she would’ve made quick work of burrowing through or around the huge stone hand.

It took them most of a day and well into the night, but they managed to chip and blast the stone fist away enough to see the damage underneath.  It was a gorey mess: flesh and feathers and scales marred together into so much pulp.

Zahra tried to keep him from seeing Keyleth’s maimed body, half-smashed into Scanlan’s, but some morbid curiosity got the better of him.  He wished he hadn’t, though; he didn’t think he’d ever get the image out of his head.

He did recover his own items, though.  Kash appeared with the Bag of Holding and the Bag of Colding, and Vax very carefully did not ask where he’d gotten them.  Seeing Keyleth was one thing; he didn’t think he could bear to see his sister.

“I dropped their items in the Bag of Holding,” Kash said.  Even he looked uncomfortable.  “All the magical stuff was undamaged.  Needs a bit of cleaning up.  I made a list.  Just...don’t ask what’s on it.”

Vax nodded, adding the items he and Zahra had recovered to the bag.  His own gear he put on, just in case he needed it.

Amazingly, the Prime Trammels had survived intact, as had the Tome of Isolation.

“Is there any way we can give them a proper burial?”  Zahra asked.  “It seems a shame to leave them up here.  What if they’re reanimated?  Wait!  Kash!  Do you have Raise Dead?”

The cleric rubbed between his eyebrows.  “I...do, actually.”

“Try it!”

“It takes an hour to cast.”

“Then take an hour!  Vax, come here!  Help me guard him.”

The ritual was every bit as long and complicated and boring as Vax remembered, and if it brought back any one of his party members - his  _ family _ \- he would happily sit through it six times in a row.

The body in question was Keyleth’s, simply on account of proximity.  Vax tried to put words to his love for her, awkward and stumbling though they were, and prayed to the Raven Queen that she let Keyleth return.  Beside him Kash and Zahra both offered their tributes as well.

Nothing happened.

“It’s the weirdest thing,” Kash said, looking shaken for once.  “It’s like something’s blocking the ritual.  And - okay, call me crazy, folks - I thought I heard  _ laughing _ when I was trying to search for Keyleth’s spirit.  And not the good kind of laughing.”

They exchanged glances.   _ Vecna. _

“Well,” Zahra said, a little too brightly, “I think we should check with the city clerics.  Perhaps one of them can confirm what we’ve experienced, or at the very least, can help us.”

“But  _ sleep _ first.”

“Yes, darling.  Sleep first.”

Over the next few days, the three of them spoke to as many clerics as they could find.  All of them said the same thing: resurrection spells just weren’t working.  Worse, healing magics that relied upon divine power were less effective than normal.  It appeared that the Undying King didn’t want his opponents coming back as anything other than undead.

Thankfully, they did manage to hold funeral rites for all the members of Vox Machina, for Velora, and for Arkhan.  Highbearer Vord and the rest of the clerics of Bahamut had strenuously protested any recognition for a follower of Tiamat, but finally the maidens of the Raven Queen temple had quietly carried the dragonborn’s remains away to do whatever it was they did with unclaimed dead.

All the while, Vax felt like there was a ticking time bomb in the back of his head.  When would Vecna reappear?  How could they possibly be ready?

He gathered as many allies as he could - Zahra and Kashaw, Kima and Allura, and a pair of clerics of Bahamut - and waited.

And waited.

Fifteen days after the fall of Vasselheim, Vax’s sense of Vecna’s presence flared.  Using that and a map, they tracked him to Iman.  Allura teleported them to Greyskull Keep, only to have the presence jump to Wildemount.

And again, just outside Vasselheim.

“How is he tracking us?”  Allura asked, out of breath and very nearly out of spells.  “I have the Band of Shouds attuned.  Shouldn’t that keep us hidden?”

Vax groaned.  “Either he’s spying on us, or he chose these places specifically and is simply giving us enough time to teleport before moving on.  The Band of Shrouds only prevents scrying; it doesn’t make us invisible.”

“Still.  Unless someone else can teleport, I have one more shot.”

No one else could teleport.  And still, Vecna moved.

Allura pulled out the map and traced her fingers along the line Vax indicated.  “Thats...oh gods, that’s Whitestone.”

“Do we stay here?” asked one of the Bahamut clerics.  “Vasselheim is a larger city; surely Vecna would attack here instead of Whitestone…”

“It doesn’t matter.  He’s got us.  We either teleport and waste a spell, allowing him to go anywhere he pleases, or we stay here and he can raze Whitestone.”

The group looked to Vax.  He wasn’t sure when he’d been appointed the leader of their party, but it wasn’t something he appreciated very much.  “We go to Whitestone.  When we were making our way up the tower, we...came across Shaun, Cassandra and Kaylie.  We sent them to Whitestone to get them out of the way.”

Zahra frowned.  “That’s lovely, darling, but-”

“Gilmore can teleport,” Allura said, readying her spell.  “If we miss, he can send us wherever we need to go.”

The group appeared in the courtyard of Whitestone Castle.  Cassandra, still heavily bandaged, was standing just to one side.  She jumped as they appeared.

“Is it...oh, Vax’ildan!  And...company.  We heard nothing from Vox Machina since you sent us away.  Where is my brother?”

Kaylie came barrelling out of the castle, skidding to a stop in front of the group and wincing.

Vax cleared his throat.  “They...I’m sorry, but they didn’t make it.  None of them did.  We...they died bravely.  As heroes.  And we are here to finish what they started.”

Cassandra seemed to crumple in on herself for a moment before regaining composure.  “Thank you for telling me.  I…” she wiped away a few tears, “I assume you are here for...that.”

Hovering overhead was Vecna the Ascended.  He was high up.   _ Very _ high up.  Everything in Vax’s body seemed to strain towards the lich, as if trying to move closer by sheer force of will.  He bent over slightly, preparing to open his spell-wings, when Zahra’s hand clapped down on his shoulder.

“Don’t do anything rash.  We are here with you; don’t leave us behind.”

He ignored that advice.  “How many fly spells do you have?”

“Well.  If I cast it at ninth level, I can take six of us.  That covers all of us, but then I’m down my most powerful spell.”

“No, it  _ doesn’t _ cover all of you.”  Kaylie stepped forward, jaw set.  “I want to fight, too.  I want to  _ kill _ the thing that murdered my father.”

“Darling, I can only take six of us, and Vax has his own wings.  There just isn’t enough spell power to take you.”

“Then break it up.  Use two spells.”

Zahra sighed, rubbing between her eyes.  “It’s a concentration spell.  I can’t-”

“Kaylie,” Vax said, kneeling down to face the gnome girl, “Your father would not have wanted you to do this.”

She scoffed.  “My father wouldn’t have wanted me to do a lot of things.”

“Kaylie.  Your father died so that you could live a long and healthy life.  He was one of my dearest friends.  Please, stay safe?  Recover?”

She sighed, turned on her heels and stomping back inside the castle.  “If you get your butts kicked, I’m joining you next time.”

“Deal.”

Gilmore rushed outside, hands glowing.  “Who?  What?   _ Vax?” _

“No time to explain,” Zahra called, casting her fly spell.

Vax extended his wings, gave a salute to Gilmore, and took off after his party.

The fight against Vecna was no less harrowing a second time around.  He was on the lookout for trammels, which made it very, very difficult to get anywhere close to him.

But Vax had learned as well.  He ensured that the group spread out, stayed above ground, and kept their health up.  They did as much radiant damage as possible to counteract his healing abilities.  Having  _ three _ clerics in the group helped, but as they neared the end of their ten minutes of flight time he began to get nervous.

He did his best to protect Allura as she read the Tome of Isolation, but he couldn’t do much when her counterspell failed and she was sent to another plane.  The battle was lost at that point.  They barely did enough damage to destroy Vecna’s avatar form when the fly spell dropped.

Vax managed to save Kima...barely.  The halfling woman was the closest to him, and their descent was more of a carefully-controlled fall than anything resembling flight.  He watched in horror as the rest of his group - including Allura, who appeared in a pop of magic - plummeted towards the ground.

Zahra, down to her last bits of magic, managed to cast a fly spell on herself and Kash and bring them down safely.  The two clerics of Bahamut were too far away, and they all watched helplessly as they fell into the city below.

Allura floundered for a moment, and it looked like she was going to meet the same fate, but barely fifteen feet off the ground she began to float.

Gilmore stood in front of the castle, hand outstretched, looking shockingly pale.  He slowly let his hand fall, and Allura floated gently to the ground as well.  “That was far too close,” he said, taking a hand and helping her to the ground.

“Yes, indeed.  That was- Kima?  Kima, where are you?”

Vax settled and released Kima, grateful for the opportunity to rest his wings, and watched Zahra and Kash make their own (far more controlled) descent.

“The clerics?” he asked, scanning the city.

“Dead, likely, unless there’s another spellcaster around we don’t know about.”

_ “Gods. _  They didn’t even know what they were getting into.”

Gilmore clapped a hand on Vax’s shoulder.  “You’re fighting a god.  None of us know what we’re getting into.  Vax, look out!”

His vision dimmed in an all-too-familiar fashion.  He faintly felt hands slowing his descent, then the extremely uncomfortable sensation of his extremities beginning to dissolve.

He looked up to find the Raven Queen looming over him, as always.

“Back so soon?” she asked, her mask expressionless but her voice a touch amused.  “You must be missing me, Fate-Touched.”

“What happened?  We...didn’t win, exactly, but we didn’t  _ lose. _  Vecna’s physical form was destroyed!”

“It was.  He had backup plans that...did not quite make it in time.  Your group was more efficient than he expected at dealing damage and preventing his natural regeneration.  He had expected his troop of Death Knights to be a surprise attack, to distract you at a critical moment of the fight, but you brought him low well before then.

“Unfortunately for you, they had infiltrated the castle by the time the battle was over using some sort of invisibility magic that is...difficult for me to see through.  Ioun may have more information, if you wish to go to her domain, or I can send you to Pelor’s fortress to be with your sister.”

Vax looked up at his sworn goddess, still dazed from his recent death.  “That’s very kind of you, but...why?”

“You have a long road ahead of you, my chosen; longer than any mortal should bear.  I remember the weight of mortality, with its strengths and its weaknesses.  If you are to persist, and not fall to this horror, you will need a strength I cannot give you.”

“...Okay.  I.   If Ioun has information, I’ll go see her, then.  Thank you.”

Without a word, she waved her hand and found himself once again in the Athenaeum.

The crowd had settled, arranging themselves in groups among the shelves and leaving the central bowl nearly empty once again.  A few children were sitting by Ioun, now resting on her pillows, telling her stories and snuggling into her trailing hair and robes.

“Ah, Vax’ildan,” she said, gesturing for him to approach.  He did, trying to ignore the sickening twist in his stomach as his steps followed the dip of the bowl instead of the normal, static gravitational pull he was used to.  “I see you are back.  I’m flattered.”

“...Good?  I mean-”

She waved him off.  “I know what you mean, you poor thing.  I have been in contact with your...goddess…and she has filled many of us in on what is happening in the world below.  Her position  _ does _ give her an advantage when it comes to ascertaining what is going on, especially with my own sight so clouded.”  Her face puckered, as if the mere mention of the goddess of death left a sour taste in her mouth.

“Then, you know about Vecna?”

“Well, I assume if you’re back  _ here _ instead of resting properly with your mistress that this is another temporary visit.”  She took a sip of her tea, one hand gently stroking the golden curls of a child who had put his head on her knee.  “Well, out with it; what do you need?”

“The Raven Queen said that I was stabbed in the back by a Death Knight who used invisibility magic to sneak into Whitestone Castle.  You’ve said that Vecna is protected from your sight, but is his army?  We destroyed his form mere hours after he reappeared in the Prime Material Plane.  How is that possible?”

Ioun chuckled dryly.  “Yes, but he had two  _ weeks _ to prepare for his return, and he clearly has methods of communicating with his followers between planes.  Recall that he made contact with the Briarwoods and his other followers even before his return to mortality.

“As for invisibility...what you are facing is something greater than a mere invisibility spell.  It is an ancient magic that I have only come across once or twice before; the secrets are lost even to me.  Vecna, keeper of secrets that he is, must have been hoarding it.  Remember this: he undoubtedly has more powers that have been long forgotten.”

“I will.  Thank you.”

“And now, off with you!  Your friends have regrouped and are in,” she sighed, “Section 21C.”

“...Section 21C?”

“Scanlan, that little scamp, has been imposing  _ order _ upon my library.”  She frowned a little.  “It is most concerning.”

Vax bowed and left before he upset the goddess.

As he approached the shelves, he saw very large signs marked with handwritten letters.  The one in front of him read “45A.”  Looking down the row of shelves, he caught a glimpse of another sign on the next set of bookshelves: “45B.”

Smiling, he made his way around the edge of the bowl to Section 21A, then down the row of bookshelves from there.  In a break between the third and fourth sets of shelves, he saw a group of familiar faces.”

“Vax!”  Keyleth ran up to him, nearly knocking him over.  “What happened?  You were gone - Percy said you must have been sent back - but Ioun couldn’t see you, and it’s been...honestly a bit boring here, and-”

He took her face in his hands and kissed her as hard as he could, cutting off the torrent of words.

The cheers of their other friends cut off the kiss long before he was ready to let her go, so he tucked her into his side and turned to face them.

Scanlan, Grog, and Percy were sitting in the middle of what looked like a small campsite.  Blankets had been strung up to form a makeshift shelter against the sheer vastness of the Athenaeum and afford a little privacy.  More blankets and some of the large pillows that seemed to be everywhere had been shaped into beds.

“Come,” Percy said, “Join us.  Tell us what’s going on in the fight.”

Vax settled down, still clinging to Keyleth almost as much as she was clinging to him, and told them everything.

Instead of being angry, Percy looked contemplative.  “So you can’t bring us back.  That’s about what I expected; something about this place seems so...final.  Still.  I don’t suppose you could arrange for me to be buried in Whitestone?  And, maybe, tell my sister a  _ little _ more about what happened?”

“Yes, of course.  Don’t give me that look, Freddy; Kash thought he could appear within a day.  If I’d known that he’d take 15 I would’ve spent all the time in the world with your sister.”

“Well, please see that you do.  I...I don’t have any right to ask that of you, after I failed yours-”

_ “Freddy, _ please.  You made her happy.  And we’re brothers; of course I’ll look after your sister for you, for as long as I can.”

Scanlan groaned.  “Is this just going to be a regular thing, then?  You popping in and out every few days for all eternity?”

“It...seems so.  The Raven Queen and I made a deal: I have temporary life until my task is done.  I guess dying in battle doesn’t get me out of that.”  Keyleth’s hands on his armor tightened uncomfortably.  “I’ll be around, though.  Oh, your daughter is doing well.  She was at Whitestone-”

“She didn’t  _ fight, _ did she?”

“No.  Well, she tried.  She’s taking your death hard, from what little I saw.  We didn’t have enough flight magic to get her up into the air or she would’ve fought alongside us.”

“Vax, promise me you won’t let her fight.  Don’t let my little girl die the same way I did.”  He looked unusually serious.

“I can’t make that promise-”

_ “What?” _

“Listen to me.  Scanlan.  Your daughter  _ loves _ you.  She’s going to pretty much do what she wants, isn’t she?  I’m not going to...to physically tie her down to keep her from avenging you.  I  _ will _ fight alongside her if I can and try to keep her out of harm’s way.  She’s a grown woman.  It’s her choice.”

He brought his knees up.  It was hard to remember that Scanlan was a gnome; his personality always made him seem so much larger than life.  “She’s my little girl.  Please,  _ please _ keep her out of it.”

“I’ll pass along your message.  That’s about as much as I can promise.”

He nodded, still looking depressed.

“But enough about me; what have you all been up to?”

They regaled him with tales of organizing and setting up the plane’s weirdest campsite in a library, of talking with the other dead and learning their stories.  They spoke for hours, stopping for tea and sandwiches that were served periodically by the ghostly librarians.  None of them said it, but knowing that Vax’s time with them was limited - though a familiar feeling by that point - made the time all the more precious.

He was still awake when he felt a cold tug in his gut and the library faded around him.

He woke in his room in Whitestone castle, once again in the nude.  Thankfully, he had several changes of clothes to choose from; unfortunately, the shirts were all gaudy ones his sister had picked out for him to wear for the awkward dinners she held every so often.  Though he’d long since moved most of the clothing he kept in Whitestone to Keyleth’s room, he’d left those things in his old room so he didn’t have to look at them.

Nostalgia hit him hard in the gut, and almost despite himself he felt cold tears trickle down his face.  Whatever passed for a heart in his reborn body thudded heavily, its pace still much slower than he was used to.

He put the stupid clothes on and stepped out into the hallway.

His timing was perfect; Gilmore was just coming around a corner.  “Who?  What?  What are you?”

“Shawn, it’s me-”

“Stop it.  You drop that form right now.”  A tingle of magic washed over Vax, but it had no effect.

“Shawn, it’s Vax-”

“No.  I saw Vax crumble  _ to dust. _  I don’t know who or what you are, but-”

The spell hit him mid-sentence, catching Vax completely unaware.  Suddenly, everything seemed so...peaceful.  He didn’t have to worry about anything.  He just had to worry about doing whatever Shawn Gilmore told him to do.  How nice.  He felt his shoulders slump a little as the tension left them.

“Drop your form,” Gilmore said.

Vax really wanted to obey, so he let himself crumple.  He hit his head pretty hard, but that was alright.  He was just doing with Shawn told him to, so everything was fine.

“Damnit-okay.  Okay.  Tell me who you are.”

“Vax’ildan.”

“Who you  _ really _ are.”

“I’m really Vax’ildan.”

Gilmore dropped to his knees and sat him upright.  “Then  _ how _ are you  _ here?” _

“I don’t know.  I made a deal with the Raven Queen that I would live until I stopped Vecna.  I’m not sure how I keep coming back.  It’s rather uncomfortable.”

Tears appeared in Gilmore’s eyes, and Vax was hit with the sudden awareness that he’d been charmed.  “Shawn?  What was that?  Why did you do that to me?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, tears streaming down his face.  “I’m  _ sorry. _  You were gone, and I...I couldn’t believe my eyes.  I’ve lost so, so much already…”

“Shawn…” he wrapped his arm around the other man.

Gilmore chuckled.  “You’re cold.  Some sort of...revenant, I’d say, from what I know.  Of course.  Pale skin, slow heartbeat...I should’ve seen the signs.”

“Oh?  Is that what I am?”

He sat back, looking Vax over with a critical eye.  “As best as I can tell.  But revenants react like any other undead to holy magic, and you...clearly don’t.  You would’ve been fried on the spot if you did.”

“Fried?  What?”

“After what happened yesterday...well, we couldn’t be too careful.  We had the whole place blessed, and every cleric in town is busy trying to make sure it never happens again.”

“The death knights were invisible.  Something stronger than a normal invisibility spell.”

“...Yes, but how do  _ you _ know?”

“I spoke with Ioun-”

“The Knowing Mistress herself?  My my, you  _ have _ been busy.”

“Yes, well, death has been an...interesting experience.  This is a spell that she’s unfamiliar with.  She said there could be more.  Vecna is the god of secrets; he likely has a stash of spells he’s kept hidden from the world and is just  _ waiting _ to use.”

Gilmore nodded solemnly.  “Then we’ll be ready for him.  We’ll organize teams, get more people involved.  This affects all of us; there’s no reason to place this burden upon you alone.  Come!  Let’s let everyone know you’re alive.  It’s about time for some good news around here.”

Vax found himself pulled down the stairs and into the main dining hall of the castle.  Many people there he recognized from visits, but he also saw Allura and Kaylie there as well.  It looked like he’d arrived just in time for dinner.

Kaylie’s face fell when she saw him.  “Aww, man, I guess you’ll want your gear back, huh.”

“That...would be appreciated.”

She sighed.  “I knew it was too good to be true.  Can’t I at least keep the dagger?”

“Whisper?  I need it...for now.”

“Fine.  But I get it when you kick the bucket for real.”

“Deal.”

She shoveled the last few bites of stew into her mouth sloppily, wiped her face with the back of her hand, and wandered off.  Vax took her place at the table, jumping when a servant replaced Kaylie’s bowl with a fresh one.

“It is good to see you, Vax.  When you...disappeared, we were quite worried.  What happened?”

“Not here,” he said, looking around.  “I’ll explain later.”

Allura nodded.

It wasn’t until he’d cleaned his bowl that he realized Allura was only picking at his food.  “Allura?  What happened?”

She cleared her throat.  “Kima…”

“Oh no.  Tell me she’s not-”

“She’s alive, but...barely.  Stubborn fool.”  She wiped her eyes daintily with a napkin.  “She saw the death knights, and it was like her birthday come early.  She took down four or five of them herself.  But she was wounded, and surrounded...I barely managed to get her out, drained of magic as I was.  She lost an arm, and an eye.  The healers are saying she may not wake.  There is some dark magic in the blades of the death knights that they haven’t seen before.”

“Allura, I’m so sorry.”

She nodded, finally giving up the pretense of eating.  The people at the table around them were looking down at their food quietly, trying to give them as much space as possible in the crowded hall.  “In a way, it may be for the best.  She would not want to live a life where she couldn’t fight.”

“Don’t say that.  Even if she never smashes another zombie in her life, it will still have meaning.  Weren’t you going to grow old together?  She’s not the type to give up.  We’ll find someone to make her a mechanical arm; I knew a terrifyingly good gunner who had a mechanical hand and got along just fine.”

“She…” A small smile crept across her face.  “She would like that, I think.  Especially if it made her look more terrifying.”

“Then we’ll get her the most terrifying mechanical arm we can.  Heck, if we can pop over to see Taryon-”  He nearly choked.”

“Vax?  What’s wrong, dear?”

“Taryon...he doesn’t know.  What happened, I mean.  We all had these...necklaces that he made, that would tell us when one of us fell in battle.  Gods, he must be frantic right now.”

“That’s awful!  Then...yes, let’s go see him.  I can give you a ride as soon as Kima wakes up, but…”

“No no, stay with her.  I need to run some errands, anyways.”

“Of course.”  Allura excused herself and hurried away towards the guest wing of the castle.

Kaylie appeared a short while later, arms full of black feathers and leather.  A small bag with his belt, daggers, and other tools was precariously balanced on top of it.  “Here.  Take your stuff.”

“Thanks.”  He opened the bag, peeked inside, and snagged the back of Kaylie’s shirt as she tried to walk away.  “I need  _ all _ my daggers.”

“You died!  Make me!”

He moved like he was going to punch her, but it was a feint.  His other hand slipped Whisper out of her belt where she’d tried to hide it under her shirt.

“What-oh.  Hey!”

_ “My _ dagger.”

“I’m attuned to it!”

“Then you’ll unattune shortly.  You’ll get it when I kick the bucket.  Now c’mon, I have something to say to you.”

“You’d better not be-”

“It’s important.”

Kaylie actually followed him up to his room, though she looked very skittish.  Vax let her inside and closed the door.

“I have a message for you from your father.”

“What?  How?  Is he-”

“I really did die yesterday.  When I die, I go to this...place where the dead go.  I saw your father there.  He asked me to tell you not to fight.”

She whipped around, hands clenched.  Her shoulders were stiff.  “Did he say anything else?”

“He doesn’t want you to die.  He loves you, Kaylie, even now.”

The shoulders trembled a little.  “He doesn’t have the  _ right _ to tell me what to do.  He left me.  After he  _ promised _ he wouldn’t.”

“He didn’t have a choice.  If there was a way to come back he would-”

“What?  You’ve brought him back before.  There are plenty of clerics around.”

“Resurrection magic isn’t working right now due to Vecna’s influence.”

“Then he really is...gone.”

Vax shifted.  Sometime while he’d been down at dinner, two familiar bags had been placed on his bed.  He reached into the Bag of Holding and pulled out Mythcarver.  “Here.  I can’t leave Whisper with you now, but I think Scanlan would’ve wanted you to have this.”

Kaylie turned around.  She’d tried to dry her face, but her eyes were still red.  “Is that…?”

“Mythcarver.  It’s a bardic sword.”

She chuckled wetly.  “I already have one of his swords.”

“This is a special one.  It’s a vestige.  Use whatever you prefer, but I’ve seen your father slay a pit fiend and locate an impossible book with this one.  It’s not really my style, but I think you have the talent to use it.”

She took it in her hands almost reverently, glancing over the scabbard.  Drawing it slowly, she watched the light reflect off the blade.

“You said that old bastard did some pretty awesome things with this?”

“Yes.  There’s a secret to unlocking it’s full potential, but I think you need to find that for yourself.  If I tell you now, it will probably seem like a cheap trick.”

She scowled, but nodded.  Bringing the blade upright, she ran a hand along it and hummed.  The blade resonated with the note.  “It’s a beautiful sword.  Thank you.”

“Of course.  There is...one other thing I wanted to ask you.”

Her expression turned suspicious.  “What?”

“Your father is currently resting in a tomb in Vasselheim, but I can’t imagine that’s the best place for him.  As his daughter, I think you should have a say in where he’s buried.”

“Oh.”  Her face froze.  “I...I’ll need some time to think.”

“Of course.  Take all the time you need.”

“I...need to go now.  Thanks again.”

Vax nodded at her as she stepped out the door.

Over the next few days, he brought Percival’s body and his sister’s back to Whitestone.  Their remains were laid to rest beside the rest of the de Rolo family in the temple of Pelor in a beautiful ceremony attended by most of the town.

“I can’t believe it,” Cassandra said, standing by her brother’s grave afterwards.  “After all this time, I am the last de Rolo left.  The very last of us.  I always thought it would be him.”

Vax had no words to give her, but he remained by her side until she was ready to leave.  Standing at his sister’s grave made the whole experience seem less like a nightmare and more like a dreadful reality.

He really, really wished he could wake up.

His whole being felt sick.  He missed his sister more than breath, more than warmth, more than life itself.  That night, he broke into Percy’s workshop - abandoned since his death; no one else knew what to do with it - and drank something he desperately hoped was toxic.

It was.

He woke up in the Raven Queen’s realm.  “Please,” he called into the darkness.  “May I please see my sister?”

He blinked, then winced against the blinding light of the Fortress of the Sun.  Without thinking, he ran.  He both knew and didn’t know where he was going; the way was unfamiliar, but he could no more ignore the tugging in his heart than he could his own two legs.

He found her sitting by a pool, propped up against the statue of a roaring, armored bear.  She was gazing out across the Fields of Elysium, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“Hey you,” he said.  His voice sounded awful to his own ears.

Vex lit up like the sun itself, flinging herself into his arms.  “Vax!  I thought I’d never see you again!  How on earth did you get here?”

It took him a moment to respond; the lump in his throat felt like it would choke him.  “It doesn’t matter.  It doesn’t matter at all.”

“Of course it does,” she sniffed.  “You’re the only person aside from Pelor himself I’ve seen since I got here.  Unless those angel-things count.”

“They probably do.”  He couldn’t stop hugging her, even when she tried to wiggle away.  She’d always done that, even when they were kids, too independent to sit still for long.  He loved her desperately for it.

Finally, he released her.  She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand, not protesting as he straightened her hair and arranged her feathers.  “So how  _ did _ you get here?  Not that I’m complaining, but I thought Pelor didn’t much like your Raven Queen.”

“Sit down a minute, Stubby, and I’ll tell you.”

They cuddled side by side, like they had so many times in front of a fire on cold nights, and he told his story.  He made sure to mention Percy’s ideas.

“To be honest,” she said, “I wouldn’t mind visiting the library instead.  Pelor’s nice enough, but Ioun was comfy.  It’s all stone and hard edges around here, and it gets really, really boring after a while.”

“It does not work that way.”  The sudden appearance of Pelor made them both jump.  “Greetings, chosen of the Raven Queen.  I see you have finally joined us.”

“Uh, yes…”

“Be still; I mean you no harm.  But Percival de Rolo has no place here.”

“Are you certain?”  Vax couldn’t look directly at the Dawnfather - the light was too bright, and he was too attuned to darkness - but he did his best to look in the god’s general direction.  “Percival was no worshipper of yours - he certainly has no love of the gods in general - but his family has served yours faithfully for generations.  Does that carry any weight with you?  He freed Whitestone, a city under your protection, and did his very best to make it an example of all that is best in human culture and technology.  Does that matter at all?

“He was - in many ways - a flawed man; but aren’t we all?  What makes Percival any better or worse than any other man?  He made his mistakes, yes, but he dedicated his life to correcting them.  Does that make him less worthy that someone who never made any mistakes at all, who never felt the weight of a wrong committed and shouldered the burden of duty to correct it?”

Pelor was silent for a moment.  “Your passionate defense of your friend is...touching, even to the eternal heart of a god.  Tell me, worthiness aside, what could he bring to my realm?”

It took him a moment, head spinning, to find the answer, but it rang true.  “Innovation.  Eternity must get awfully boring up here in the Blessed Fields of Elysium.  Provide him with the right tools, and he could build you marvels that will outlast even his own curiosity.”

The god laughed with a boom like a thunder clap.  “You are a silver-tongued man, chosen of the Raven Queen.  Very well.  I shall...consider giving Percival de Rolo a place here.  Provided he stops trying to punch holes in the veil between planes.  It is...irritating to all of us.”

“I’ll tell him the next time I see him,” Vax promised.

Without another word, Pelor vanished.

“He does that,” Vex said.  “I think he’s gotten used to being alone, mostly.  The angels are nice, and we know very well that they’re good in battle, but they’re not much for conversation.”

“...Yeah.”

“Are you okay?  Do you need a minute?”

“No?”

“Good.”  She wrapped him in a warm hug.  “Thank you for trying to bring Percy here.  I was too overwhelmed to ask myself; I didn’t even know if he was dead or alive, and...well, it seemed like asking would have made it too real.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Now.  Tell me more about this funeral you had for us.”

He described it in great detail.

“And...Velora?  Where is she?”

“Still in Vasselheim.  I need to bring her back to Father.  It’s just...I...I missed you so much that I…”

She read him easily, as she always did.  “You killed yourself, didn’t you.”

“Um.  Yes?  I knew I’d come back-”

She slapped him across the face.  “Never do that again.”

“Ah-what?”

_ “Never _ do that again.”

“It’s not like I actually  _ killed _ killed myself.  Immortal, remember?”

“I don’t care.  Don’t you give me that.  I don’t want you hurting yourself every time you miss us.  You have enough danger in your everyday life; there’s no point in making more.  And you said before that the timing of Vecna’s return is uncertain, right?  And he’s able to move armies without actually being around?  What if he’s attacking Whitestone right now?  What if he’s back already, and you aren’t there to fight him?”

He hadn’t thought of that.

“You need to keep your head on straight, brother.  Keyleth and I aren’t there anymore to smack sense into you when you need it.  Promise me you won’t do that again?”

“I promise.  I won’t.  Not unless things get really, really bad.”

“Vax-”

“I’d rather kill myself temporarily then go crazy.”

She sighed.  “Well, I guess that’s as good as I’m going to get.  But I’ll kick your arse if you show up here again without a good reason.”

He tousled her hair.  “Fair enough.”

“Ugh; my braid’s all messy now.”

“Turn around and I’ll fix it.”

He took the feathers and bands out of her hair and combed it straight with his fingers.  She sighed lightly as he did, relaxing against the base of the statue.

Just as he finished re-braiding it, he blinked and found himself back in Whitestone Castle.

“Never do that again,” whispered the voice of the Raven Queen in his ears.  “Death is not a gift to be taken lightly, and even a temporary life is too precious to waste.”

Feeling ashamed of himself, Vax put some clothes on and went downstairs.

He didn’t remember much of the many, many, many battles that followed.  He remembered Gilmore’s triumph at figuring out how to counter the invisibility spell Vecna favored and his despair when the god simply switched to another one, harder to break.  He remembered Kaylie’s decision to take her father’s ashes and return to Ank’Harel, causing Mythcarver to lend her its true power.

He remembered many, many fallen friends: Allura and Kima dying side-by-side in battle, many of the adventurers Gilmore and Taryon had rounded up, and countless iterations of Doty.  He remembered Taryon becoming more and more cynical, his creations becoming darker and more gruesome.

He tried not to remember the day he had to put Taryon down when the man turned on civilians in a blind rage after yet another fruitless battle against Vecna.

And oh, he remembered Vecna.

It seemed more and more like his time on the Prime Material Plane was one long horrible nightmare, while his time spent in the realms of the divine was his normal life.  Pelor, after much cajoling, finally accepted Percy into his realm, while Kord accepted Grog into his.  Vax didn’t visit Grog much - Kord was not the most accepting of visitors - but he saw a lot of Percy.

Piece by piece, he set up a workshop in the Fortress of the Sun that rivaled anything he had ever had in life.  Either out of curiosity or favor, Pelor and his angels acquired any tool Percy asked for.  Those requests were never in vain, and after a bit of tinkering and experimentation, he began to  _ build. _

His first great masterpiece was a clock tower.  It was made of some kind of thin glass that glowed in the light of Elysium, the transparent walls showing equally transparent gears slowly turning inside.  It was amusing to watch him directing armies of angels to lift and carry the large slabs and gears into place, welding each piece himself with some kind of silver metal that made the whole structure look a little like a stained glass window.

“It’s strange,” Pelor said to him one day as they watched Percy arrange the gears in the tower, “For a man who has no use for gods, he makes many demands of one.  Materials, help, tools; it’s all laid out very neatly on pieces of paper, each grain of sand accounted for, as if precision will make his request less like a prayer.”

Vax grinned.  “He likes to believe he’s self-reliant, but deep down he knows he’s not.  It weighs on him.”

“Of course.  Speaking of which, how goes the fight?  Vecna is still clouded from our eyes, after all these years.”

And he was back in the fray.  It was strange, how those two worlds opposed each other.  In one, he could help his sister and her husband and their projects, spend time with his dear Keyleth and Scanlan and little Pike, and - if he was very lucky - go drinking with Grog.  In the other, he was watching companions die or be driven mad by hopelessness or dark magic and the rest…

Well.  The rest grew old.

Cassandra married and had twelve children to carry on the family name.  One was named Percival, and looked  _ just _ like Vax thought a young Percival would look.  He never got used to the dark hair, but the boy was otherwise the spitting image of his friend.

Kaylie followed in her mother’s footsteps.  She had a daughter with a man she met just once, in some shady business deal, and raised the girl alone.  Vax helped her when he could - her plight reminded him of his own mother - but she was too independent to accept much from him.  He did give the girl her first flute, though, to Kaylie’s chagrin.  The few times Vecna attacked Ank’Horel, she fought alongside the defenders to protect her new home.

Gilmore led an underground resistance movement until the day he died in some stupid skirmish with a group of undead.  His charisma and charm served the cause well, drawing people to their side and bolstering their spirits, while his extensive magical knowledge kept them as safe as anyone could be under the reign of the Undying King.  Though he had no children of his own - his tastes lay in...other directions, and he never lacked for partners - he passed his magical knowledge down to anyone who showed promise.  The Tome of Isolation was one thing every one of his students studied; each time Vecna arose, there were always a group of people available to attempt to seal him.

Kash and Zahra helped fight as much as possible, but they had other worries.  Their family was growing: first their daughter, then a son, then twin boys.  No matter how much Kash protested that the world wasn’t safe enough to raise a family, Zahra always got her way.  Even after one of their boys was taken by Vecna in a fit of rage to be used as a living shield - an event the child did not survive - they only fought the harder.  Eventually, it was Kash who stayed home and Zahra who fought; he was getting on in years, and human lives were all too short.

Everyone else was a blur to Vax.  He couldn’t keep up.  He didn’t  _ want _ to keep up.  He became a legend, both among those who resisted the influence of Vecna and those who gave in to it.  He could hardly go anywhere without being recognized.

Slowly, the Raven Queen changed his appearance.  He didn’t notice it at first - just a shift of the eyes, a touch on the bridge of his nose - but his friends did.

“I hardly recognize you anymore,” Keyleth said to him one evening as he rested from another long fight.  “It’s strange to see you going on living, at least partly, while I’m the same.”

It was strange to him, too.

The library was emptier, those days.  The souls of those who had fought against Vecna that first time moved on, gradually.  Scanlan did as well, once he was sure Kaylie was safe.

Pike - little Pickle - held on for as long as she could, but eventually became a pearl on Sarenrae’s beach.   She had enjoyed watching Percy’s clock tower being built from afar, but she was ready for her rest.  She had always been close to her goddess, after all.

Grog just went on fighting.  It was the way of the followers of Kord, and Vax thought nothing suited him better.  It was good to know that he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t give up, even if Grog enjoyed his fate a lot more than Vax did.

It was hard to care when it seemed like nothing mattered.

And then, suddenly, it did.

He was staring at Vecna in what he was sure was just another pointless fight.  The two trammels - still intact despite the years and Vecna’s best efforts to destroy them - had been hammered into place, and behind him a veritable army of magic-users were casting spells and taking turns trying the Incantation of Isolation.  The girl who was currently reading was a little redhead with freckles across her nose; Vax couldn’t remember her name, but she reminded him of Keyleth.  Her words were shaky but her voice was strong.

With an anticlimactic pop, Vecna disappeared.

The gathered fighters paused.  The girl passed the book on to the boy who was next in line, her hands shaking.

But for the first time in...longer than he cared to remember, Vax couldn’t feel Vecna’s presence.

It was over.

It was  _ over. _

It was…

“It’s over,” he said, looking out at his companions.  He didn’t even know their names; hadn’t cared to learn.  Why hadn’t he cared to learn?  What had he  _ become? _

“It’s over,” they repeated to each other.  “We won.  Vecna is  _ dead.” _

“It’s over!” the children cried to each other.

“It’s over,” an old man sobbed.  Had he even been born when Vecna ascended?

Vax touched down - he barely noticed the line between flight and walking, by that point - and made his way over to his generals.  “We did it,” he said.  “Thank you for your service.”

“Thank  _ you,” _ one of them replied, clapping him on the shoulder.  “You are the real hero today, Vax’ildan.  Come!  Have some ale with us!  You’ve earned it!”

But a feeling of intense cold was growing in Vax’s chest.  He shook his head, smiling.   _ Finally. _  “I believe I am needed elsewhere,” he said.

“What?  Where?  This is-good gods!”

Vax could feel the presence of the Raven Queen behind him, her hands like chips of ice on his shoulders.  “It is time,” she whispered.  He could hear the smile in her voice.

He turned and walked with her, away from that plane of existence and into the next.

Unlike his prior visits to the realms of the gods, this time he didn’t step into darkness.  Instead, he went straight to the Blessed Fields of Elysium.  Percy’s clock tower was just chiming the hour - as it did every so often, despite the fact that time was immaterial in that plane - and...oh.

There was a little cabin covered in flowers and vines waiting for him.  It looked almost perfect.  The only thing missing…

...walked out the front door, smiling at him.

“Finally,” Keyleth said.

“It’s over,” he said, dipping her into an enthusiastic kiss.

After a moment she stepped back.  “By the way, your mom’s a really nice lady.  I was talking with her about nature and recipes and what you looked like as a baby-”

Happier then he’d felt in a long, long time, Vax took her hand and stepped inside.

**Author's Note:**

> "Descent" is a play on "Ascended" - Vecna's title after he achieves godhood - and the phrase "descent into madness," which is probably what would happen if anyone actually endured what I just put Vax through.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me. I finished Critical Role over the weekend and this idea would not leave me alone. It was not supposed to be this long, but then again, that's true of all the stories I currently have in progress.


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